


Trust

by lein



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 01:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/521874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lein/pseuds/lein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The two of you are silent as you watch the clouds roll past the stars outside. The city sings a sweet, sweet melody, soft and lilting, as he rests his head on your shoulder. And you know that everything’s going to be okay. The road to recovery is a long one and you are prepared to walk it together. </p><p> :.A collection of 30 drabbles set post-game.:</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Warm-hearted Love of the Stupid .SIDE A.

**Author's Note:**

> These are mostly me trying to find my feel for the characters in particular (I have spent over two pages analysing Joshua, including his personality seen in KH3D). This game is very special to me as I used to be a lot like Neku and it taught me a lot of the same lessons he learned. Although I'm not the best, I'm learning to get through it. Just starting to get through life without headphones glued to my ears (that and I lost my mp3 player)/

**Beginning.**

It starts the way you always expected it not to. Josh is curled up on your bed, all skin and bones wrapped up in stylish, ill-fitted clothing that makes him just look small (even though he is an inch or two taller than you; and about twenty pounds lighter). He’s quiet, a hand loosely covering yours as he stares out your bedroom window.

The two of you are silent as you watch the clouds roll past the stars outside. The city sings a sweet, sweet melody, soft and lilting, as he rests his head on your shoulder.

And you know that everything’s going to be okay.

* * *

 

**Accusation.**

“Are you avoiding me?”

Josh flinches just the slightest bit and turns to you with that stupid fake smile. “What are you talking about, Neku?”

“Cut the shit.”

You roll your eyes and shove him lightly. He just giggles, shoving you back just as lightly. You can’t help but throw an arm over him as the two of you keep walking aimlessly through the city. “I’m not asking you to be perfect, stupid. Just maybe sometimes you can afford to be a little less of an obtuse jerk and act like you have feelings other than arrogant.”

You turn to find the most sincere smile across his face and an offensive gesture on his hand. He laughs when you punch him.

 

* * *

 

**Restless.**

Nowadays, Josh paces the floors of WildKat when he can’t find anything to do. You’ve never asked how much older he is than you but you know he’s not much more mature. He’s ten times more restless when he gets nervous. He’ll never admit it though, much more apt to take it out on the worn out floors of Mr. H’s little café.

It makes you laugh as he tries his hardest to think of things to do. It’s a Saturday and you don’t bother to suggest anything, it’ll just get horribly shot down anyways.

It takes a few more minutes for Josh to sigh, throw an exasperated hand through his hair and flop down in the seat next to you, back stretched over the counter. His foot taps uselessly on the ground.

“Nekuu. I’m going to die from all this waiting.”

“Good.”

 

* * *

 

**Snowflake.**

His hair reminds you of sun-kissed snowflakes and that’s the only way you know how to describe it. He’s told you before, quietly, that it used to be a bright blonde. You can only imagine Josh as that small and frail child, a permanent foreigner label attached directly to his forehead.

The boy of the sun, child of the snow and you quickly scribble down everything that he reminds you of. Your imagination is on overdrive and the lines are pouring out onto the page like snow.

He’s so bright and you try to chase that with light lilacs, starshine yellows and hospital whites. It takes all night and most of Sunday afternoon just for you to feel satisfied enough to take a rest.

You’ve never felt so inspired in your life.

 

* * *

 

**Haze.**

The clouds are a haze over the stars tonight, your music is blasting through speakers and you are laughing. Joshua is complaining about some movie the two of you just finished watching, the volume of your music and EVERYTHING.

You are so giddy for no reason and he’s smiling despite himself.

You can feel the bass thrum throughout your entire body, the music driving you and pulsing warm through you veins. And on this hazy summer night, you feel more alive than you have ever been before.

Joshua latches his arms around your shoulders and tugs. And even though you crash land in front of your bed and the little shit’s now complaining about injuring his poor cranium, the two of you laugh your way into a kiss.


	2. Warm-Hearted Love of the Stupid .SIDE B.

**Flame.**

Sometimes you’ll have dreams about the game. You can remember the feeling of flames licking the skin of your fingers, warm and friendly; the clear memory of bending the element to your will.

You’ve always loved fire; it’s calming and sweet, something that possesses a sense of beauty that you’re unable to catch in drawings. You’ve tried way too many times.

Everything was so simple when you could just fight your problems head on and not have to worry about things. Now you have to take things in stride, overcome those mountains slowly and sometimes you get upset.

And then you remember the feeling of flames, strong and intense, and you know that eventually you’ll get through anything.

 

* * *

 

**Formal.**

You are standing in the middle of his dumb fish pad, watching Josh tug at the knot tied around his throat. His face is contorted in a look of mild disgust and it’s actually a really funny thing to see. “For someone who’s so haughty, it’s surprising to see you so upset.”

“I prefer loose clothing.”

“I’m sure someone of your standing could find something both fancy and loose.”

He smiles, it’s small and sad. “I’ve always wanted to wear something like this. I didn’t quite expect it to feel like someone choking you.”

Josh looks so tiny and vulnerable and you can’t stand the air in the room, stuffy and sad. You clap him on the back with a grin. “Just lose the tie, stupid. You’ll look just as nice, I promise.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Companion.**

These days you are rarely seen without the company of your trusty sketchpad. Your meetings with Josh are growing more and more frequent as well. Shiki laughs the next time you see her and tells you that you’re much happier than you’ve ever been.

You took her out to a local coffee shop, somewhere away from WildKat (you want a quiet atmosphere, something new), to celebrate, in a sense. “I like seeing you smile, Neku.”

You raise an eyebrow and take a sip of your drink (milk tea, you like your drinks light and sweet). “I like seeing you have confidence in yourself.”

There’s a glow in her face that’s never been there before when she smiles, wide and breathtaking.

“The only way to go now is forward.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Move.**

You are quite fed up at the moment. Five hours of work and you still can’t get the damn lines to just fucking _move_ the way you see them in your head. You spend the last of Friday night throwing your supplies across the room and then cleaning up everything and hoping nothing was too broken (you got so lucky, even your stupid stupid stupid sketch didn’t even get a hint of a wrinkle; you are going to work on that some other time, you know it).

Joshua laughs at you when he comes over the next night. He’s seated on the edge of your bed, ankles delicately crossed and just laughs. You nearly throw a book at his face.  Instead you spend the night sneaking glances at the flow of lines on his body, the way his elbow curls into his forearm, the way his nose silently slopes down into a small peak, the way his lips form a smile when he notices you watching him.

You don’t apologize, he never asks.

 

* * *

 

**Silver.**

You like to think that the sky is painted dull silver instead of gray when the sun’s not out. It leaves a slight jump in your step and helps you hold your head up high even as Beat is complaining about the possibility of rain. The four of you end up in your usual ramen shop (a routine; every Wednesday at four). Rhyme’s happily chatting away about some new project she’s found, Shiki’s listening intently and Beat is, well, Beat.

He decides to stop stuffing his face long enough to ask, “So, Phones, you’s been smiling like a maniac lately. You go and fall in love or somethin’?”

You grin widely. “You could say it’s something.”

They spend the rest of lunch trying to force it out of you; you spend the rest of lunch telling them jack shit.


	3. Cold-Weathered Smiles of the Lucky .SIDE A.

**Prepared.**

Sunday morning is a chore. It’s that time of year again and you spend it letting yourself get dragged from store to store by a couple of excitable girls. You desperately tried to get Joshua to go but once again, he decided to continue to be an obtuse fuck. You aren’t exactly mad, Shiki and Eri have really interesting conversations, but spending the day as a bag jockey really sucks.

They toss another bag of Christmas presents at you (you nearly miss it) and Shiki smiles softly before whispering in your ear.

“So are you going to get that secret special someone of yours something?”

You grin. “Even if I had the arms to carry anything else, nothing I could buy would satisfy that jerk.”

* * *

 

**Knowledge.**

Joshua’s there when you get home, arms curled delicately around tiny legs, and tells you stories of things you never knew were real while you work on homework. You don’t look at him, you know you can’t (you tried once before; he refused to continue until you turned around again).

Some song is playing softly in the background, supporting Joshua’s voice and you know that this is what it’s like to be alive.

Your homework is less than half done and more than half doodled on and you might not turn it in at all but that’s okay. No one knows everything and frankly listening to Josh is more important that any stupid homework that you’re probably going to forget about come tomorrow.

At least, he doesn’t quiz you on anything.

 

* * *

 

**Denial.**

The funniest thing about Josh is if you miraculously catch him sleeping, he’ll deny it. You’ve caught him before, face tucked against the glass table, legs tangled together underneath it. It took him a little bit to wake up and even longer for him to stop telling you that he was never asleep in the first place (even though he absolutely was; there was no way that he would make that face awake).

To make it even, you took an even longer time to stop laughing at him. It’s just an utterly ridiculous thing for him to get so defensive about.

It’s even funnier when he tries to explain to you that he was completely awake the night he slumped over on your shoulder during some stupid movie and woke up vaguely confused but sure he had to argue with you about something.

You’ve started to let him ‘convince’ you just to get him to shut up about it.

When you’re not busy laughing your ass off.

 

* * *

 

**Wind.**

You are fire, aggressive and passionate; you burn strongly and harshly at a heat of your own, hard to handle if one isn’t used to you.

Joshua is the wind, ever-moving and ever-changing; he blows swiftly and surely, hard to catch if one doesn’t know how.

He dances around you, knowing just what to throw your way to fan your flames; a harsh hurricane when you need a pick me up, a healing breeze when you’re burning a little too brightly. You’re both learning the right ways to dance and dance around each other, the right way to kick each other up, the right way to complement the other.

The right way to heal.

 

* * *

 

**Order.**

You keep your art supplies and music in a nice organized chaos, somewhere you know you’ll look when you need to find them. Boxes inside drawers and stacks and stacks all nicely spread around in a way that only you know. And honestly, you live your life in the same way that you organize your bedroom. You have a strange routine that changes every day, yet stays the same every week with the occasional nuances.

Shiki likes to complain about the mess every time she comes over (usually with one of her and Eri’s new ideas that she wants your opinion on).  Miraculously, Josh doesn’t (of course, he doesn’t usually do much past chill on your bed while you fuck around on some art program with your new tablet).

You find dumb little notes neatly penned and tucked into the corners of your folders and CD cases the next time you decide to clean again. You carefully fold them up again and give them a spot of their own.


	4. Cold-Weathered Smile of the Lucky .SIDE B.

**Thanks.**

The wind passes through the streets of the city, chilling its inhabitants to the bone and plastering a smile quietly across your face. You visit Neku that night simply because you feel alive.

His room is warm and filled with a sense of belonging and you take your usual spot on his bed, pen in hand and already writing out dumb little notes for him to find. It gives you a way to pass the time.

It’s about five thirty when the redhead finally opens the door to his room. It’s only two minutes later that he takes the spot next to you full of complaints about his day. He’s asleep only a few hours later, utterly exhausted and curled heavily into your side. Your hand slides softly into his hair.

“Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

**Look.**

His face is beautiful in the ethereal light sliding in from the window. The moonlight paints shadows against his slender cheekbones and curves nicely around his eye sockets. It just cements your belief that Joshua is something else entirely. A fragile piece of glass and while you may not walk on eggshells around him, you dance, hands balled up in the curve of his back, in the glow of midnight, until he smiles at you.

You couldn’t ask for anything more.

 

* * *

 

**Summer.**

The sun beats down in the middle of the winter and it reminds you of the thrum of summer. Shibuya is colder than normal but still not the worst it could be, after all, it’s far from freezing.

You spend the day with Shiki and Rhyme in a small bookstore, hidden from the bustle of the city. The spines fit snugly in the palm of your hand as you curl up in one of the armchairs, you barely notice the hours rolling by until Shiki stands to stretch and Rhyme’s suggesting that your group get something to eat.

You end up buying every book you’ve read and make a mental note to slide together some playlist to listen to when you read them again.  

 

* * *

 

**Transformation.**

You hardly notice the difference come Saturday night. Josh visits you just like every other night, soft hand touching your waist and he laughs sincerely as the two of you curl against one another. Everything is more tender and you can’t help but laugh as he tumbles off the bed after trying to slide those cold, cold hands farther up your shirt (you may have kicked him but you will never admit that out loud).

His face as he looks up at you is priceless and it only serves to make you laugh harder (and Josh narrow his eyes further).

Your relationship is getting softer and softer every day.

 

* * *

 

**Tremble.**

The sky is soft and purple, settling with colours you never really noticed before. The air is calm and even though you keep the window closed, you can feel the chill of outside just by looking at it. It’s late when Josh finally slides frequencies, causes the room to shiver.

He’s hardly quiet tonight, small fingers bunched up in too big pant legs and chattering about nothing in particular but everything just as much. You only listen to the harsh tilt of his voice as your pen marks make short lines across the paper.

It’s nothing in particular, just lines and swirls, but the resulting drawing says more than you ever could. Josh takes it, holds it close to him with that infuriating grin on his face and tells you that you should really pay more attention to him, he hates being ignored.

You spend the rest of the night trying not to laugh as you turn every way but towards him.


	5. Sun-kissed Hugs of the Survivors .SIDE A.

**Sunset.**

Spring creeps up as a surprise.

It sneaks around the corner as Josh speaks softly against the reds and oranges of the outside skylight. It slides like the shiver of a new promise and ushers in a brand new school year. You catch yourself welcoming the fluctuations of the weather, cool one day and warm the next, with a peculiar optimism that you’ve never had before. Something in those three long weeks has changed you (in good way, you think), etched a permanent lesson along the ridges of your spine.

Shibuya hums around your fingertips, slow and sure, and you hum along with it.  

* * *

 

**Mad.**

You like to think you’re getting better at controlling your temper; you also like to think you’re getting better getting better at dealing with Joshua but you know, at least, the second one is a lie.

He visits often, as often as he can, sliding through the corners of reality to end up pressed against the edge of your mattress. You used to be angry, at him, at the lack of visitations, but you realized that it’s nothing he can control; and really, Josh is trying his best.

“Is it hard?” you ask in the middle of a dreer Sunday afternoon. Josh is draped over your shoulders like an expensive shawl. He watches as you slide your pencil aimlessly against a scrap piece of bristol board. He makes a quiet questioning noise and waits for you to elaborate.

“Maintaining everything yourself, is it hard?”

He grunts, presses his face into the side of your neck.

“Is this a roundabout way of asking about my day job?”

* * *

 

**Thousand.**

“How old are you?”

You’re in the fishpad, homework spread out on the glass table the rests in the middle of room, when you find yourself asking Joshua this.

“Much, much older than even your grandparents, Neku,” he murmurs and it’s evident he’s barely paying attention to you. It takes a few minutes before Josh lifts his head slightly, catching your eye from the other side of the room with a curious glance. “Why do you ask?”

You give him a wide grin. “I want to know how gross you are for kissing me.”

You can’t help but laugh at the total look of disgust that blooms over his face before he schools it into a snide grin.

“Neku. It can’t be any worse than kissing the dead.”

* * *

 

**Outside.**

It’s warm the day you finally manage to drag Josh out to meet the rest of your friends. He’s quiet and small, even smaller than he usually looks, against the bronze statue of Hachiko. You two are the first there, and you keep your eyes trained on him to make sure Josh doesn’t get up and bolt before everyone else shows.

Unsurprisingly, Shiki is the first to arrive, a few minutes early. Eri’s hand is curled over the well-worn bindings of her sketchpad as she trails behind. Beat and Rhyme show up at the meeting time to the dot and she recites a catchy limerick on the merits of being on time.

Josh curls his fingers against the fabric covering his knees, he’s nervous, and it takes everything in you to not call him out on the fake, fake smile he directs to your friends. He’s trying and you decide to give him that for now.  

* * *

 

**Winter.**

The cold lingers against the windows of your bedroom. You find yourself pressing your cheek against the glass on a particularly hot spring evening. A fan sits, propped up against a large stack of records in the corner farthest from you, its soothing breeze doesn’t quite make it to the safe haven of your desk.

You think about moving but you gave up about an hour ago. It’s too much effort to put forth.

You soon find yourself dozing off, gazing out at a sliver of the city through the cold, cold glass. You dream of the quiet breeze of winter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! i just wanted to say i am ridiculously sorry about the fact that this was put off for two whole years :0 
> 
> the file was stored on a desktop computer that crashed and no longer accepted when i tried to open the internet and somehow every flashdrive ran when i tried to look for them. between starting college in another state and the start of a chapter p4 fanfic, it honestly slipped my mind for a tiny bit. however i have recovered the file and posted it onto the handy dandy google docs!! so now i can work on it with my new laptop which doesn't have word. 
> 
> that was definitely not intentional..... anyways hello, this is Not dead and Will be finished as i have finally recovered the file from my shitty desktop and i promise will all of my heart that the next chapter will not take as long to post. you're all welcome to visit me @fay-fluorite on tumblr and yell at me to keep this promise


	6. Sun-kissed Hugs of the Survivors .SIDE B.

**Diamond.**

Moonlight glitters against the floor of your bedroom around the hour of eleven.

You find yourself purposely turning the lights off around this time to watch the silver light dance around the floor in front of your bed; even on late evenings bogged down with hour and hours of work, you still find the time to plan at least an hours worth of time to just sit.

Joshua finds it amusing, reminds you that the city still hums around you, still filters its unforgiving neon life through the panes of glass and onto to you awaiting room.

You smile, a light grin, and tell him that after what you’ve gone through, from how far up you both are, the light of the city shines pretty and crystalline.

Like diamond.

* * *

 

**Letters.**

You leave a note.

Pressed up against the wall of the fishpad, hidden half behind the jukebox, it sits, white and pretty fucking obvious from the entrance of the room; it’s small, brief, full of things you want to tell Josh but can’t figure out how exactly to articulate. The envelope says nothing, needs nothing.

You consider, a split second after you hide it, just destroying it but it’s something you need to get off your chest, something Josh needs to know. Your fingers shake with your resolve as you leave the room.

You wonder how long it’ll take him to find it.

* * *

**Promise.**

Pressed inside the small envelope sits a small piece of folded up notebook paper. Its contents are in pretty little English letter that sweep across the page from left to right. Josh finds it on a rainy Saturday, pacing the fishpad after a particularly rough end to a week. It’s from you, he knows it’s from you the minute he feels the weight of the paper.

The news comes as a shock, and initially Josh thinks it’s a joke; but it can’t be, something this serious, something this important, it’s something you would never joke about.

There’s a shift in the air. Shibuya hums and sings and.

Changes.

* * *

**Simple.**

The letter reads as follows:

‘Josh,

I got accepted to an art college in the states. I’ll be living there for the next four years. I think it’ll really help me with my creativity. Don’t raze Shibuya while I’m gone or I’ll find your ass in the UG and kick it all the way to America.

Neku’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this accidentally ended up having plot so the last one will actually be a full oneshot which should make up for the fact that this is four 100 word drabbles and 1 50 word drabble.


End file.
